Crying Oneself to Sleep
by pam j aulio
Summary: Stiles is devastated after Lydia chooses Jackson at the end of Season 2, but is loving Jackson the same as being in love with him? What if Lydia visits Stiles again later that night?... Stiles is the best character, so why shouldn't he get the girl? Includes explanation for Jackson's absence in Season 3! Rated for language, and possible mild sexual content later.


**Feedback appreciated! Short one-shot, but will probably be continued if enough reviews. I own nothing.**

Stiles sat on the edge of his bed, wiping away what he hoped would be the last tear.

But he knew it wouldn't be.

The girl he had loved for so long had professed her love to her old jerk of a boyfriend right in front of him. Stiles had left for home almost immediately after that, hoping to spare himself the embarrassment of her noticing his reaction. When he got home, avoiding the attention of his dad as he cried his way to his room was fortunately simple, because Sheriff Stilinski had already gone to bed.

And now, an hour and nearly a full roll of toilet paper later, he was still crying, thoughts and regrets racing through his mind, not letting him fall asleep.

_ Whoever came up with the expression "to cry oneself to sleep" clearly did not realize that it's impossible to do so_, Stiles thought. He sighed and turned his head to look at the clock.

Two in the morning.

_ Wow. I'm fucking pathetic, _he thought. _Okay, come on, Stiles. Be a man. It doesn't matter, just forget about it. There are other fish in the sea._

_ But none like this one._

Stiles knew that in a way, he would never get over Lydia. He had spent his whole teenage life idolizing her. True, she did not love him, but she never had before, so why did it feel so much more painful now?

He had thought that things might be changing, what with her breaking up with Jackson, her support of Stiles during the game, her opening up to him in his room. But then, as always, he had to go and mess it up, by having an outburst and pushing her away.

He stared down at the empty roll of toilet paper in his hands, sighing yet again. He got up and walked down the hall to get another roll from the bathroom.

Of all nights to be out of tissue.

As he quietly made his way to the bathroom, he saw a shadow dance across the wall against the light coming in through the sidelight window of the front door downstairs. Startled, he froze for a second. He heard quiet footsteps on his porch.

_Who the hell would come to the door at this ungodly hour?_

Slowly, Stiles made his way down the stairs, trying to catch sight of his visitor through the sidelight. When he reached the bottom step, he leaned forward and peeked through the glass.

It was Lydia.

He quickly leaned back, thankful that she hadn't seen him. _What the hell was she doing here? Again?_ he thought.

He wiped his eyes, trying to remove any evidence that he had been crying. He leaned back out and took another look at her. She was looking down, almost at her feet, and she had a troubled expression on her face. Even though Stiles had constantly studied her beautiful face for so many years, he didn't think that he had ever seen her display this expression. She looked uncertain and hesitant, and after about a minute of standing in front of the door, she simply turned around and quietly started to walk away.

Stiles closed his eyes. _Don't open the door. Don't let her see you like this. You have nothing to say to her._

But _why the hell_ had she come over?

He exhaled, steeled himself, and slowly opened the door.

She quickly turned around. After a moment, she gave him a half-smile and said, "Hey."

He paused, taking in her stunning, dark eyes, her full lips, her perfect strawberry-blonde hair. "What...what are doing here? Do you realize what time it is?"

She looked at him, noticing the blotches on his face that told her he had just been crying. _Oh, God_, she thought, saddened by the confirmation of her fears—by the pain that she had caused him tonight.

"Stiles", she sighed. She took a step forward, still looking at him, concerned. "I... I saw you cr... I saw you, after... after Jackson came back to..."

Stiles gulped. _Damn_. "Oh, uh...well...like I said, he scratched my Jeep, so..."

"Stiles, please," she challenged. "I just... I want to know if you're... if you're okay".

He exhaled, silent for a moment. "Well, yeah... I'm... I'm good...everybody's good, right? You're good..." He spoke the last part with a quiet resolve. "Jackson's good".

She looked at him again, shaking her head. "Actually, no. I mean... yeah, I told him that I still loved him... and that's the truth, Stiles".

He looked down at his feet and nodded, pretending to accept the fact that he had been trying to make himself accept for the past few hours.

Lydia inhaled. _Here goes_. "But... that doesn't mean that I'm... _in _love with him".

Stiles' head shot back up.

"I...I might still have some feelings for him," she continued, "But just because I said I still love him doesn't mean that all of our problems are gone. It didn't work out before, and... I don't think it ever really will. And now that he knows about what he did... that he went on a killing spree...that's gonna weigh on him heavily. I think he needs some time away from everything... away from Beacon Hills, away from me. And besides..." she paused for a second, looking down. "although I still have feelings for him, I'd be lying if I said I haven't also developed feelings for someone else."

Stiles' heart raced.

She looked back up into his amber eyes. "I did what I had to do to save Jackson... but when I saw your face afterward, it... it broke my heart. I've been trying to deny it, trying to ignore these feelings... I'm not sure why." She paused again. "Maybe because you keep messing up or missing opportunities. Like when you nearly yelled at me in your room earlier tonight. Or when you left me crying in my car. That hurt, Stiles."

Stiles gulped, immediately feeling guilty. "I know, I know, I'm an idiot like that. But I'm not going to miss _this_ opportunity. Lydia, I spend every waking moment thinking about you, trying to get you to notice me, thinking about how I can make you happy, worrying about you... And when you kissed Jackson tonight, it... it felt like my heart shattered into a million pieces. To be honest, I've been crying all night, trying to tell myself that things could change. I'm so sorry, Lydia... I'm sorry that I messed up before, I'm sorry that I never had the guts to really tell you how I feel. But if you give me a chance... I want to let you know that I would _die _before seeing you get hurt, that I can't explain how crazy about you I am... that... I love you."

Before he could react, Lydia pulled him by the collar of his shirt and kissed him.

Stiles couldn't believe it. He eagerly kissed back, and felt like crying again—but this time, tears of joy.


End file.
